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Grothskar
Grothskar, known as the Black Blademaster, wasn't always black. He wasn't always Scourgeborn, corrupted by the Lich King's evil taint. He was once a grand warrior, but still is. It is a pity that many cannot see through his icy blue eyes, or his dark armor. This text is dedicated to his history, before the Lich King. Before damnation. Frostwolf Village Grothskar is a member of the Frostwolf Clan, and thus was born in Frostwolf Village. He was not one of the exiles from Draenor who had founded the village, and thus is rather young. An adult, no doubt, but young, in where he stands today. While living in the Frostwolf village, his parents, at a very young age, encouraged upon him becoming a Frostwolf Grunt, and subsequently a soldier of the Horde. Not wanting to dishonor his family and being a coward by not taking up their wishes, he picked up an axe and started his training with the Frostwolf Clan at a very, very young age, and had earned his tabard and insignia soon after. He was one of the youngest of the Frostwolves living in Frostwolf Village to have been deemed a grunt. This made his clan, and their Shaman, Drek'thar, very pleased, to see such patriotism in young orcs. He spent a few years fighting as a Grunt in Alterac Valley, often engaging in skirmishes with the Stormpike Dwarves. In fact, it is a wonder how he was never killed, considering how young he started, and how seasoned the veterans were. Whether it was luck, or favor from the Spirits of Alterac Valley, he did not know. One thing was for certain though: He didn't see himself living long as a Grunt, and in Alterac Valley. He yearned to see the world beyond. This opportunity rose when a peculiar fellow had entered Frostwolf Village in search of supplies for travel. This was an orc named Drak'nosh Bladeheart, an ancient, though unknown, Blademaster. Path of the Blademaster Grothskar had just left his childhood years, into adolescence, when he had approached Drak'nosh and spoke to him of his wishes to leave Alterac Valley, and to never return to the life of a Grunt. He wanted to be something more. Drak'nosh would then had explained what he is (a Blademaster), and would offer Grothskar a place to travel with him under one condition: If Grothskar would learn the Path of the Blademaster, and take up Drak'nosh's mantle and walk the world in his name and beliefs, morals, and virtues of the Blademaster. Truth be told, he did not need many supplies. He had been moving from town to town to find an heir to his position, an apprentice to his teachings, for every great Blademaster must have a student under his wing in order to achieve the honor to pass into the Great Hunting Fields of past orcs, according to Drak'nosh's beliefs. With enthusiasm, Grothskar took up his offer, and out of Alterac Valley they traveled, to far reaches of Azeroth. The Stonetalon Mountains Drak'nosh's formal "home" resided deep in the peaks of the Stonetalon Mountains, among the Elementals of Earth, Fire, Air, and Water. In this home, he meditated and asked the Elementals and Spirits for guidance to his ways, and often he found it. Perhaps this is where he gained the compulsion to go to the Frostwolf Village, so far away from his home? Upon arriving, Drak'nosh taught Grothskar Shamanism as Drek'thar taught Thrall Shamanism. These were the first teachings of Drak'nosh, and deemed among the most important because of his Shamanistic heritage and background. Grothskar was quick to adopt his beliefs, and grew very attached to the spirits. On a daily basis, he had never failed to speak with them, to ask for guidance from them, or to thank them for miracles that they had created. Then came swordsplay. The art of swordsmanship Many days and many nights were spent first teaching Grothskar how to fight with first a one-handed blade in each hand. The weapons used were made of crude wood and stone, and thus did not kill, but simply, with a lack of better words, hurt like hell. In the beginning months, he grew all-too familiar with this unique brand of pain never before experienced before Drak'nosh had came into his life. At first he despised duels, but the pain, and the combat began to grow on him. His senses began to hone; his speed began to increase; and his strength began to grow. Soon, with these weapons, Grothskar was defeating his opponent. Drak'nosh did not take shame in being defeated, but great honor, for his teachings were successful, and Grothskar was growing in power. They spent every night huddled around elemental fire, speaking to each other of battles, of what the Spirits had to say to them, with a stone bowl of seasoned soup of various meats hunted by the two of them to eat. Learning all he could from one-handed weapons, they moved to the heavier, two-handed swords. Grothskar almost immediately preferred this type of combat, and did immediately have the ability to hold his own, even though he had never wielded anything two-handed outside of an axe before. This training lasted years, compared to the months of one-handed training. Battles would often go on for hours until a new scar would be gifted to the other orc's chest. Then they'd laugh about it. All was well in the Stonetalon Mountains. The Day of Thunderous Rejoice The end of Grothskar's adolescence was nigh, and it was coming fast. Drak'nosh saw many things in Grothskar; a few of them being honor, strength, and wisdom. Grothskar had proven to be physically powerful, mentally dexterous, and unshakable in his faith to the Spirits. Almost a carbon copy of Drak'nosh. He was proud to be looking into a near reflection of himself in younger years. This smile was weary, however, for he was an old man, and tired. His day had come. It was time he joined his ancestors in the Great Hunting Fields of the astral planes. Such a day was different for a Blademaster. It was special for any orc, but especially so for their kind. To die in honor at the hands of an honorable opponent was all that he could ask for. So, he told Grothskar that it was the day that he was to be called a true Blademaster. Grothskar understood what Drak'nosh meant, and so he nodded and followed Drak'nosh to a particular peak: the tallest mountain in all of the Stonetalon Mountains. The Battle of Great Honor Drak'nosh and Grothskar climbed this mighty mountain for many hours, but at last they reached the summit. In the center of the land was a green fire in which burned without fuel. They both recognized it as a very sacred ground, and kneeled in respect for the spirits before taking their positions. As their feet dug into the soil, the clouds darkened, and created an overcast above them. The first clash of steel on steel caused a boom of thunder that excited the Elementals, and upon the Stonetalon Moutains, a great rain fell, drenching their combat ground and everything around it. Steel flew. Crash, clang, boom. The claps of thunder in the sky were not only created by the lightning that tore open the heavens with its fury. The clashing of their swords and their cries of glorious battle were equally loud, heard for miles to come. Each opponent tried to out-maneuver the other, using absurdly complicated tactics, strategies, attacks, and movements, involving flips and spins and contact of metal on metal. This combat, and its subsequent thunder storm, lasted for three days and three nights; relentless combat, and ceaseless rain. The mountains began to flood, and the water waned, and it flooded again. The elements were in harmony with one another, as was Drak'nosh's sweeps and Grothskar's parries; Grothskar's thursts and Drak'noshes sidesteps. Blows were few and far between, and never even close to lethal, because of the Blademasters' quick movements. The end to such an epic was equally glorious. The End of Legendary Combat Three days passed, and the combat, and the storm, never waned. On the third night of the third day, Grothskar had made a bold move of dropping his weapon on the ground, dropping to his hands, and initiating a whirlwind of kicks to Drak'nosh's weapon, knocking the blade out of his hands and next to Grothskar's. As soon as the metal left Drak'nosh's palms, Grothskar sprang back, grabbing his blade mid-air, landed on the soles of his feet, and performed an act that hasn't been practiced in decades: A Wind Walk. Grothskar had moved so fast that he was a blur to natural eyes, completely invisible. When he reappeared, his blade was through Drak'nosh's chest, coming out the other side, right beneath his heart. Repositioning himself, Grothskar yanked the weapon up, cleaving his heart in two, and withdrew, entrails caught on a triangular groove in the weapon, fit for catching parries. Drak'nosh did not die with a face contorted with pain. He did not fall with eyes full of shock. No. He fell to his knees with a broad smile upon his wrinkled face, his eyes glassy. When he hit the ground, his blood did not spill, but in place of his blood, a green fire, identical to the one in the middle of the duel grounds, surged from his wounds, and formed into the spiritual manifestation of himself as he ascended through the clouds that opened to make way for him. As his spirit rose into the heavens, an arc of flame came from the crackling green fire and engulfed the blade of Grothskar's. He dropped the blade as this happened, but picked it up soon afterwards. Then, he had a disembodied compulsion to run his palm along the smooth edge of the sword. As he did so, Drak'nosh's conscience flooded his memory as his old master told him that he will forever be with him, no matter what he did. He rested there, by Drak'nosh's undecaying corpse, for three days and three nights, before heading to the Eastern Plaguelands due to another strange compulsion. Corruption Grothskar spent many days and many nights travelling to the damned lands of Lordaeron, more often referred to as the Eastern Plaguelands. He didn't know why he was heading to this blasted land, and he knew deep in the back of his mind that he certainly didn't want to, but slowly and slowly, as the days went by, his will was no longer his own. A dark seed had sprouted in the back of his conscience, employed by an unknown force that wished for Grothskar to fight for it. At first he fought it, but resistance was futile. It won, eventually. Both unfortunately and fortunately for him, this influence was the Scourge. An effect similar to Frostmourne had on Arthas had taken residence in Grothskar, and now, while not undead, he had begun his servitude to the Lich King as a Death Knight of the Necropolis, Acherus. In his studies, Grothskar had specialized in the complicated science of the Unholy, and grew fond of this type of Knighthood. Death and Decay Grothskar slaughtered many. He rivaled Deathweaver and even Thassarian in his kill count. Quickly, he climbed the ranks to Scourge Commander, and lead the forces of darkness against the final onslaught against the remnants of the Scarlet Crusade in New Avalon. At least one-hundred fifty humans died that day. Betrayal The subsequent battle with Light's Hope Chapel and the betrayal of Arthas had freed him of his evil tyranny. He walked into Orgrimmar, donned with his Frostwolf Tabard, and this was the saving moment of Grothskar, otherwise perhaps he wouldn't have been accepted by Thrall. With this tabard on, he was accepted in open arms. However, the masses generally revolted him, spitting on him and throwing rotten food at him. It wasn't until his dark crusade of Outland, and his combat efforts at Northrend, that he had gained trust of his peers. It wasn't until he wore the armor of the Argent Crusade that he was accepted wholly by his fellow comrades. Grothskar then traveled far in honor of Drak'nosh. He went to Outland to help the cause of the Horde on that front, even though they were indefinitely winning the fight there. Then, he traveled to Northrend, to battle his most hated enemy. And here is now. Special Abilities and Powers defining Grothskar *''Unholy Dominance -- '''Grothskar is able to draw upon unholy energy that surrounds all beings and manipulate it in ways that can be devastating, whether it be an ability to "Blink" much like a mage, to places he couldn't normally go, or directing it into his Runeblade to fire an empowered Death Coil, or perhaps a mighty explosion of unholy, chaotic force. This peculiar trait derives from his affinity for the Unholy side of Knighthood. This has earned him the last name "Shadowhand." *'Wild Walk -- As stated before, Grothskar can Wind Walk, an ability not very common in any Blademaster anymore. Wind walking is the act of moving at such a speed that you become an invisible blur to anyone without enormously enhanced eye sight. You also move without a sound. This is an ability that earned him the kill against Drak'nosh, his master.' *'Shadow Tap -- Grothskar is a champion of Shamanism, a warrior of the Elemental Spirits. Because of this, at will, he can tap into this to empower himself elementally. Unlike the unholy taint that he commands, he can command the element of Shadow to enhance his devastating attacks in a different manner than Knighthood. As one would already know, there are 6 Elements: Fire, Water, Nature, Earth, Light, Shadow. Unholy and Shadow are similar outside of Shamanism, but Grothskar is able to tap into Elemental Shadow. This power is especially useful in hand-to-hand combat. ' Category:Orc Category:Horde Death Knight Category:Horde